


A Space Diva Lunch

by smithy_of_words



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:49:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6625747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithy_of_words/pseuds/smithy_of_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fluffy tiny one-shot with Miranda and Shepard enjoying a bit of R & R on the citadel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Space Diva Lunch

Tinny guitar came from the speakers–music from the Earth of old, before her children left to explore the stars. Two folk singers called out in hollow voices, about their struggles and loves, overlapping and disappearing into the drone of voices on the Citadel.

Shepard stared off into the distance, eyes unfocused on the fountains below, waiting.

_Tap tap tap…. Tap tap tap…_

Her fingers on the table.

(The bass line seemed somewhat familiar.)

People flooded around her, murmuring about the legendary Shepard, trying to surreptitiously take photos and vids on their omnitools. Maybe they thought she didn’t notice, or perhaps worse—they didn’t care that they were making nuisances of themselves.

They all dispersed, however, at the confident clip-clop of heels on metal. Miranda Lawson, commonly called ‘ice queen’ derisively by people who didn’t know her, could have that effect on people. It wasn’t the genetics, so much as the practiced gaze one developed over a lifetime of intense scrutiny.

Shepard felt the eyes leave her, and smiled to herself. Nobody could clear a room like the two of them—by manners or fists (often both).

Miranda pulled out the café chair and slid into it, elegant as always. “Shepard.”

She looked up through her eyelashes with a soft smile. “You’re late. Stopping to get me a present?”

Miranda crossed her legs and snorted, “You wish. No, I got caught up with work again. Someone asking me about some project or other.”

“You said no, I assume. Otherwise you’d still be listening to them going on and on…”

“You’d think so, but no. I had Joker cut the feed.”

Shepard barked out a laugh, suddenly tickled at the situation, drawing gazes back their way. “So I _do_ rub off on you. Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I have a reputation to maintain, you know. We can’t all be freewheeling space divas without a care.”

“Oh, come on. Live a little,” Shepard squeezed Miranda’s hand playfully. “Waiter, we space divas would like to see the menu of today’s specials, when you’ve time.”

The asari nodded stiffly–-a small bow.

Miranda rolled her eyes and pulled a hand over her face with a sigh. “I’m never going to live that one down, am I?”

Shepard leaned in to press a quick kiss to her cheek, then received the menus with a smile.

“Nope. Never.”


End file.
